Memories of Rose
by Chloe3
Summary: While Sam and Frodo are traveling through Mordor, the two recall some of their best memories among them, and the darling hobbit-lass, Rosie Cotton.
1. A Spray of Flowers

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Title: Memories of Rose

By: Chloe (the elvish, angst-loving, enthusiast)

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Feedback: You can e-mail me atevenstar47@hotmail.com and I would *love* to receive any ff.net feedback as well. If you can think of any mistakes I've made, (grammar, spelling, punctuation etc.) feel free to correct me…just please be nice. :)

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Rated: 'G for Grand!' the hobbit children shouted, and Gandalf smiled. ;)

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Summery: While Sam and Frodo are traveling through Mordor, the two recall some of their best memories among them, and the darling hobbit-lass, Rosie Cotton.

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Spoilers: A couple, if you've never read the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

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Disclaimers: Any recognizable people or places in this are exclusively J.R.R. Tolkien's. They *don't* belong to me, I *don't* have permission to use them, but I'm *not* getting paid to write this, so really who cares? :) 

Also, parts throughout the story, especially at the beginning, are practically verbatim from Two Towers, Book 2, Chapter 2, page 239-240. There are also various other quotes from Two Towers and Return of the King. 

(If you'd like specifics of where the quotes are from, please ask, and I can give you the page numbers.)

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Dedication: To Katie (owner of the Rosie&Sam fan listing) for making me realize how truly wonderful Rosie and Sam are, and how much they deserved fan fiction! Thank you for inspiring me to write about the most adorable couple Tolkien ever wrote! :)

NOTE: The fan listing is at: www.those-who-wander.net/samrosie . Please join! Sam and Rosie deserve a fan club! :D

Also, if you'd like to view the cover I did for this, please go to: http://community.webshots.com/scripts/editPhotos.fcgi?action=showMyPhoto&albumID=53705226&photoID=53705757&security=mYJedK

Hope you like it! :)

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***** marks the beginning and the end of a flashback. 

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Memories of Rose

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A spray of flowers,

Cup of tea,

A bit of rainy weather

The night we danced,

Her love for me,

Are tributes to forever!

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Chapter 1

A Spray of Flowers

The mass of red light, that was supposedly a sun, turned the forbidding mountains blood-red. Perhaps it was meant to be a sunrise, but there was really no day nor night in Mordor, for it was impossible to see either sunrise or set through the heavy air filled to the brim with ash. 

The dismal atmosphere hammered angrily down on three beings bellow; hobbits. Frodo Baggins, the ring bearer, Samwise Gamgee, his faithful companion, and the curious creature Gollum, or Smé agol as he was once called, stood before the wastelands left by the Dark Lord Sauron, gazing blankly over the heaps of ashes.

Too weary from their seemingly endless trek through the unwelcoming lands of Mordor, they wandered about to find a place for rest. For awhile they sat without speaking under the shadow of a mound of slag; but foul fumes leaked out of it, catching their throats and choking them. Gollum was the first to get up. Spluttering and cursing, he rose, and without a word or a glance at the hobbits he crawled away on all fours. Frodo and Sam crawled after him, until they came to a wide almost circular pit, high banked against the west. It was cold and dead, and a foul sump of oily many-colored oozed lay at it's bottom. In this evil hole they cowered, hoping in its shadow to escape the attention of the great lidless Eye of Sauron.

The day began to pass slowly, and for awhile none spoke, and the only sound was the hissing wind. Finally, Frodo made his sore throat to make sound.

"I'll grant that I have mentioned it before, Sam, but you look tired."

The other looked up suddenly, a little surprised. "Well, indeed, Mr. Frodo, indeed. But I can't say I'm tired as you, for you look as though you might fall if I'll not be there to keep you up!"

Frodo shook his head slowly, smiling in slightly, which surprised Sam even more. "Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?"

He nodded this time, and fixed his friend with a intense blue gaze. "I was only thinking. Of the Shire." He cocked his head to the side. "I miss it all, but what likely I shall miss the most, is…" he stared around him a moment, looking from the ashen ground to the rocky mountains, to the cold, gray sky. "the grass. The trees. I shall miss how close you are to the sky, sitting high up in a tree." his smile widened slightly. "Remember the one Pipin could never climb?"

Sam nodded as well, surprised to find that he too could smile. "Indeed, who could not? And when he once tried to climb it, for Merry could well."

Frodo shook his head again, his smile growing larger by the moment. "How long did it take for Merry to find him?"

"Nearly an hour, and well he did, for the blood had all gone to the foolish Took's head!"  


Frodo surprised both himself, and his friend, when he laughed. It was not loud, or as full as the laughter he used to bestow on his friend, but still the familiar sign of joy. But the two hobbits were not the only ones to catch the laughter. Gollum hobbled over towards them, looking slightly confused. 

"What does hobbits have for laughing at?! It is daaangerous lands. Yes, my precious. Daaangerous. Not for being laughed at by hobbits! Not a place for laugh!"

Frodo shook his head, and fixed the creature with a blue stare. "Come now, Smé agol, when *did* you last laugh?"

Gollum looked indignant. "This not a place for laugh!" He quoted himself. "It is a place for fear. Gollumm. Yesss. And *we* don't laugh at feeeear." he began to purr softly, and retreated a few feet away from the hobbits. Sam looked as though he would say something, but Frodo shook his head. 

"Leave him. Miserable creature can't even laugh." he shook his head again. "And awhile, neither could I. But memories of the Shire can only bring happiness, though I expect we will not see it again." he sighed, and looked up at the other. "And what do you miss most, Sam?"

Sam already had a far-away look in his deep blue eyes. "Oh, I don't rightly know, Mr. Frodo. How can a lad choose among such things when it is his home? It was indeed my home, and that in itself I shall miss."

Frodo couldn't help the smile across his face now, but this time it was slightly sad. "You'll see her again, Sam. I know it."

"What?" Sam's eyes refocused on Frodo, and he looked only slightly confused.

"You know of whom I speak, foolish hobbit." Frodo didn't usually use any of the choice names of Sam's Gaffer on him, but Sam understood when it was but in jest.

"Whom?" he continued to guess, though he knew as well as Frodo 'whom'. Frodo didn't answer, but merely fixed Sam with a cocked eyebrow. 

"If-" Sam began slowly. "If you speak of Miss Rose, Mr. Frodo, I can't say that's what I should miss the most. Leastways, I shall miss her, but I shall miss her dear family as well. Farmer Cotton has been quite courteous to me, in past times."

"Indeed." Frodo agreed, his smile becoming wide, and playful rather than distressed. 

Sam glanced at him and caught the smile. "Now, Mr. Frodo. Don't be thinking I- that is to say, I like Rosie-Miss Rose, that is, but there's no reason to think- I wouldn't say we are-"

"I *am* thinking that, there *is* reason to think that, I most certainly *would* say you are, and there's no reason to feel embarrassed over it." He laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "It is no secret, and there's no reason to make it one. Dear Sam, you *love* Rosie." he shrugged. "And I think it's wonderful of you."

Sam began to look rather like the Mordor sun. "I- well, I-"

"Sam." Frodo gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Yes." his face went even brighter as he looked away a moment. "Yes, I- well yes I love Miss- Rosie."

Frodo smiled, and let go of his friend's shoulder, and nodding in a satisfied gesture. "I know."

"I-I really do. It's not that I don't mean it, just I don't like saying it all that much."

"Don't worry, Sam. When you're among friends, you need not worry about that." he glanced over to where Gollum was still curled up and purring a few feet away. "*a* friend, at least."

Sam also looked at the dull-gray creature, shaking his head disbelievingly. "He wouldn't know happiness if it came to him and demanded his precious!"

Frodo laughed slightly again, causing Sam to turn and look at him. "What?"

"I was thinking about Rosie. Do you remember the time she fell down the Hill?"

Sam's face went, if possible, even more red. "Aye." he said sheepishly. "And no offence meant by this, Mr. Frodo, but I believe that was mostly your doing."

Frodo shook his head slowly, laughing softly. "Well, that's not how *I* remember it!"

"Oh? Well all I know is what *I* remember."

"Yes? Then what, Samwise, do you remember?"

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The wind blew softly over the grasses of the Sire, ruffling them like a green wave that didn't stop; like water you could, and were sorely tempted to walk through. Two short beings stood on one of these grassy hills, looking even shorter amongst the tall grass and sparse flowers the would show their blue, yellow or pink heads over the wavering grass as though they were lost. 

"Oh, you were right. It's *lovely* Sam." Frodo sighed, letting the cool air sink in. Another light breeze ruffled the grass gently, sending his exhaled breath across the field.

"It isn't the best of places, Mr. Frodo." Sam told him excitedly. "Way up on the Hill is beautiful right now." 

"Well, then," Frodo smiled broadly. "if there is something *more* beautiful than this, I surely must see it! For you surely would know what is beautiful among the trees and grass, would you not Samwise?"

Sam glowed with pride, and the two waded through the dense grass, which though it was so, was also quite thin and cool rather than heavy and itchy.

They finally gained the peak of the Hill, one of the highest points in the Shire, and gazed over it's view.

"You were very right, Sam." Frodo sighed, letting his bright blue eyes sweep the new sight. This one was even greater, for the grass was taller, and flowers could be seen in mass here and there, peaking out of the grass together, rather than sitting alone. "It is friendlier here." he told his friend, who seemed to relax slightly. Sam usually got nervous showing other's some of his favorite things, for fear they may not like it as he did. But Frodo was always thoroughly pleased with whatever Sam wanted to show him, this time more than ever. The sight of the grassy hill rolling over itself, studded with royal-colored flowers, accompanied by a welcoming breeze…it took his breath away. 

"This must be rather like what the sea looks like." he mused dreamily, letting his blue gaze drift at the pace of the steady breeze over the view again. 

"Maybe." Sam responded in the same tone. "I don't think I much thought of it that way. Perhaps if it were water, not grass?"

Frodo slowly shook his head. "There are no flowers in the sea. Surely, Sam, this is the best view anyone could hope to see. Better even than the sea."

Sam turned slightly pink, and turned to Frodo. "Do you want to walk in it?"

"I'm not sure. I might worry of ruining it."

"You couldn't do that." Sam assured. 

"You're right." Frodo consented, smiling over at his friend. "Nothing could."

They began to walk through the tall grass, which nearly cam up to their waists. Half-way down the hill though, Sam bent down and lifted a tiny cluster of purple flowers. "Brodieas." he mused, his fingers caressing the thin petals. "But the stem's severed. Did it get trampled?"

Frodo shrugged. "Someone might have picked it."

Sam looked indignant. "Who would pick a Brodieas lily, an simply leave it? Who *wouldn't* want it?" 

Frodo couldn't help laughing at the personal offence his friend had taken. "Don't ask me, Sam. I don't know the difference between a Vervain and a Lobilia, I doubt I could help."

Sam shook his head. "Forgive me, Mr. Frodo, forgive me. I do, I think, get angry over silly things."

"That's not true. Here," Frodo pointed to the severed stem on the lily. "It's still green. Someone picked this recently."

Sam nodded, and looked around. "But who?"

"Well, let's- I say! Look, Sam. Over there, see it?"

Sam squinted, and then nodded. "It's a flattened space in the grass. Maybe someone's there!"

The two walked down the Hill, still finding flowers here and there. They finally reached the flattened spot at the bottom of the Hill, and as they pulled the last of the grass out of the way, they were surprised at what they found.

"Rosie!" Sam exclaimed.

"Miss Rose!" Frodo said at the same time, and the two charged into the clearing sitting beside her.

Rosie pushed herself part of the way off the ground, and looked up. "Sam! Frodo! Well, this *is* a surprise!" she smiled broadly, and Sam went a little pink.

"What happened?" Frodo asked, looking around at her grass-stained dress, and her tousled locks of hair.

"I was walking," she sighed, pointing up at the Hill. "And I tripped, fell, rolled all the way down here, and," she pushed herself onto her elbows. "I think I twisted my ankle."

"What makes you think that?" Sam asked timidly. She looked over at him, and smiled again.

"Well, I really just guessed, but I think it's a good one."

"Why?" Asked Frodo.

She grinned. "It hurts, you silly hobbit." Frodo grinned back. "Leastways, I can't walk on it, twisted or no." 

"Well, we can help you back up the Hill," he began, but Rosie was already shaking her head, the movement causing her curls to bounce back and forth.

"Sorry. Tried. I made it to about …" she squinted at the Hill awhile, then pointed a few feet away from her in the grass. "There. Then I fell down again."

Frodo grinned at the girl's cheerful jest. Obviously, her ankle was the *only* thing that had gotten twisted.

"Well," He said, pushing himself to his feet. "I'll have to go into Hobbiton and get help. Perhaps Uncle Biblo will know what to do, or at least know who will."

Sam began to rise, but Frodo shook his head. "Now, Sam, be a gentleman, and stay with Rosie. I shall be but a short while."

Sam looked as though he were going to argue, but Rosie's mouth had not gone dry as his, and she was able to speak up quicker.

"Thank you Frodo. Sam and I will pick flowers 'till you return."

"Sounds wonderful." Frodo smiled, giving Sam a particularly wide grin. Sam had never glared at Frodo, but the closest he'd ever gotten was the look he gave now. Frodo only increased his opposite expression, and turned towards the Hill.

There was a soft giggle. "You look like you're going to die, Sam Gamgee!" Sam turned sheepishly towards Rosie, who had rolled over on the soft ground, and was lying of her back, grinning up at him. "So. What were you two doing here?"

"Oh, well, I come here lots, and knew it'd be nice right about now, so I brought Mr. Frodo up here with me to see it."

"Well," she peered around the ocean of grass. "You were right. It's *lovely* right now."

"It is." 

An uncomfortable silence settled between them, uncomfortable, that is, for Sam only. Rosie was still grinning.

"I came up to pick some flowers for the empty space on our table. They brighten up a meal like you wouldn't believe! Unfortunately," she looked around her. "I lost them all when I fell."

Sam looked suddenly relieved at something to do. "I'll go find you some more." he rose to leave, but suddenly Rosie reached out for his knee, placing her small hand on it.

"Don't go without me. All the fun is in picking the flowers, and who wouldn't want to pick flowers on a day like this?"

"But-" he hesitated. "But I thought-"

"I can walk, Sam," she propped herself up on her elbows again. "If you'll help me!"

Sam went bright red, but he really wanted to help her, so he knelt down, and put and arm behind her shoulders, holding out his other hand for her to hold on to. Slowly but surly, he pushed her up, while she pulled herself up by his outstretched hand, and she finally stood. She winced slightly, once her foot hit the ground.

"Well," she said, "lets give it a go." 

They both began to walk through the grass, Rosie still holding onto Sam's arm, but she stopped only a few feet away from where they'd been. "I'm sorry Sam." she sighed. "It really hurts." looking a little disappointed, she sat in the tall grass, and looked up at him. "I don't think I can walk on it."

Sam knelt beside her. "That's all right. There will be other days to pick flowers."

Rosie nodded, and gazed over the beautiful hills of grass and flowers. "I know that. You're right."

Sam also looked around, and knew what she was thinking. "But not a day like today."

"No, no. You're right, Sam. I'll come up here again…sometime."

Sam knew he never was good with hobbit-lasses, and goodness knows, he didn't think himself very gentle, but he couldn't take the disappointed look on Rosie's young face, and before he knew what he was doing, he offered, "I'll carry you, if you'd like. Then we can still pick flowers."

Rosie turned her sweet brown eyes on him, and genuine smile touched her small lips. "Oh, Sam, that would be wonderful."

Sam nodded, and determined to be stronger than he usually was, on the outside at least, he put one arm under Rosie's knees, and the other behind her back, while she looped her arms around his neck.

"Comfortable?" he asked her, surprised by how light she was.

"Completely. You?"

"Not yet." he admitted, meaning only on the inside, and was rewarded by another soft giggle.

The two walked easily through the tall grass, until they reached the first cluster of flowers; a pale pink cloud amongst the mountains of green.

"Oh, we *must* stop here!" Sam said, setting Rosie gently on the ground, and sitting down beside her. "Gentians!" and they began to pluck the delicate flowers, and put them in a bunch. The first of their bouquet. 

"What are these called again?"

"Gentians." He told her, smiling brightly. "They grow a lot up here."

Rosie smiled again. "You would know. You know *so* much about flowers, Sam."

Sam blushed. "Not that much, not really at least-"

"What's you're favorite flower?" she asked, keeping the compliment firmly in place.

"I dunno." Sam shrugged. "Perhaps Bluets. I like the color blue. What about you?"

Rosie thought a moment. "Maybe these." she lifted a Gentian. "I seem to remember my mother telling me of them. They're a kind of rose, I think."

Sam looked up. "Are they, now?"

"I believe so." she smiled, plucking another cluster.

"Then, I think these'll be my favorite flowers now." he nodded resolutely, and examined the flowers again.

"Because their pink?" she giggled.

"No," he smiled at her. "because they're a kind of rose. And *all* Rosie's- I- I mean roses. All roses are beautiful." and Rosie smiled even bigger.

"We're going to start losing flowers," Sam said awhile later, trying to keep the Gentians, Woodsorrels, Fleabanes, Saxifrages, and now, a handful of Beggarweeds, into the same bunch without dropping them.

"Here," Rosie pulled the blue, silk ribbon from her hair, and tied it around the bundle. "there!"

Sam nodded, and ran his fingers over the ribbon. "Well, it appears Mr. Frodo has encountered a crisis. I suppose I could carry you back up the Hill," he turned to Rosie who was nodding reluctantly. "But, we still haven't gotten you more Brodiaes, and you *can't* have a complete bouquet without that!"

Rosie smiled again. "Thank you Sam. I really *don't* want to go back now. Not yet."

"I know what you mean." he murmured, and turned as red as the Beggarweeds in his hand. 

They had found their way to the Brodiaes lilies, and then to the Buttercups, and Bluets, and Woodsorals, 'forgetting' the had already picked the Woodsorals, and though they wanted to stay after they were picked, they couldn't think of another excuse to do so, so they started up the Hill, Rosie still sitting in Sam's arms.

They gained the top of the steep mound, and sat down on it to enjoy the view together a little longer. 

Sam sat hesitant a moment, and then turned to Rosie. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but- Rosie, can I hold your hand?"

Rosie smiled brightly, and slipped her hand into his, and enjoyed the look of joy on Sam's face as she did so.

"What's your secret, Sam?" she asked slowly. He looked over at her, momentarily confused. "Well, we all have them." she answered his unspoken question with eyes bright. "What's your biggest secret. Unless you don't wish to speak it. I daresay *I'm* not the best to say it to."

"No, no." he told her quickly. "I just- well, not exactly sure I know what my secrets'd be, if I had any."

"You have no secrets?" she asked surprised, and turned around so she could look him in the eye.

"Oh, I suppose I have one…it's well…what's your secret, Rosie?" 

She smiled and looked over the windy grass again. "I'm *always* vein over my hair. I'm far too proud of it, Sam, and almost think I must cut it off."

"But shan't ever!" Sam turned around suddenly, and Rosie nearly laughed at the anxious look on his face.

"Well, it is such a problem for me." she informed him matter-of-factly. "You know, at times I wake up during sleep, and will find my fingers tangled in my curls. You shouldn't like to be around then, Sam Gamgee. I am such a frightful mess, and I do get frazzled over it." she sighed, and smiled over at him. "But now, I shan't cut it. For *your* sake if naught else."

Sam smiled sheepishly back, and turned towards the hills as well. 

"So, Samwise, I have informed you of my horrid vanity, now it is *your* turn to tell me your secret."

Sam was quiet, and hesitant a moment. Then, "Well, I suppose if I had one, it would be- well," and he rushed his next words as though he were afraid of his nerve deserting him. "I at times, wish to be more with you than with Mr. Frodo." he sighed with relief, and added "I know it's wrong, after all Mr. Frodo, and his dear uncle, Mr. Bilbo have done for me and my family, but sometimes I really should rather be with you, Rosie."

He braced himself for Rosie's response at such a forward answer, but she didn't laugh. And when he looked at her, she was smiling over the wind-blown grass, but not quite looking at them at all. Her mind was still on Sam's secret, and seemed to be playing over and over in her mind so she would not forget it.

At length, Sam reached into the lovely bouquet, examining each flower. "You know, Rosie. You would look very nice with Buttercups." he pulled a few of the pale yellow flowers from the bouquet, and pushed some of Rosie's curly hair back, nestling the tiny blossoms behind her pointed ear. "Or maybe, more accurately, Buttercups would look very nice with you."

Now, she did laugh, but for joy, and reached into the bouquet as well, this time pulling a tiny bunch of Bluets. "You know, Sam, you would look quite becoming with a few Bluets." she reached forward, tucking the blue flowers into his coat pocket. He blushed again, but didn't bother hiding it, and Rosie smiled understandingly.

"Now," she announced brightly, "we are the handsomest in Hobbiton!"

Both laughed merrily, as Rosie collected up her bouquet, and Sam collected up Rosie. The two hobbits made their way slowly down the Hill as the sun began to sink bellow the beautiful hills of grass and flowers, now somehow, made more complete by the events that had now taken place there.

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TCB…

If you're interested, I put together a picture with all the flowers in this chapter in it. You can view it at:

**http://community.webshots.com/storage/1/v1/0/88/34/54808834DZTLHl_ph.jpg**

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Just in case you'd like to see what "Rosie's Bouquet" looked like! (I especially like the Bluets and Gentian! ;)


	2. Cup of Tea

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Hullo you guys!…all three of you. :P

I'm glad that some people are enjoying this. 

Hehe, so you didn't hate it after all, Sarah. Oh goody! :D All right, so I didn't think you really would, and if you did, you certainly weren't going to say anything, but I think you liked it…or you're an extremely convincing liar. ;)

Yes, well, I think my favorite character to write was…hm, I guess either Sam or Rosie. Heck, maybe both. Frodo was pretty fun too, though his playful attitude rather depressed me in light of later events. As for Gollum, I must confess to a *serious* Sauroman-and-Cassia moment, and spent most of his scenes wanting desperately to strangle him! ;) But I endured. :D

Yes, Shmallow, Frodo is *quite* the stinker. (he and Gollum should make a club! ;) I also have a feeling that "cute" is going to be a common adj. on this story. I mean, that's just Rosie and Sam all over! ;) And yes, aren't we ALL suckers for adorable couples? Plus, adorable *hobbit* couples are ten-times more sweet, and Sam and Rosie are completely off the chart (the top of the chart) DARLING! 

*sigh* If nothing else, I'm certainly in love with them ;) 

Hi Kellen! I'm glad you decided to swing over here, even though this isn't quite your thing. I didn't expect too many people from my Lego-Ara-angst fic to show up on a Rosie-Sam-romance fic. ;) Awww no rambles? Well, shucks, Kellen. Hope you have a great time on your family trip!…and that you return with tons of rambles in mind! ;)

Okay, well, according to Siri, the link to Rosie's bouquet doesn't work. Here, this one should:

**http://community.webshots.com/photo/53705226/54808834DZTLHl**

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If not, well, real sorry there. There's one more I can try, but after that, well, it's hopeless. *sigh* oh well. ;)

Okay, onto the story!

Chapter 2

Cup of Tea

"You had a *wonderful* time, Sam." Frodo beamed. "I don't know why you were angry with me."

"Don't get me wrong, Mr. Frodo, I had a good time with Rosie. A *perfect* time, really, if the deepest truth must be told. I only- Well, you *did* leave me alone. We were almost at Bywater's doorstep before you showed up. And mind you, carrying Rosie home caused an uproar, with her brothers at least. Nearly worried dear Mrs. Cotton sick."

"I told you, I….I'm sorry, Sam, but why was I not there?"

"You 'accidentally startled Farmer Maggot's pony, upset his cart, and had to help him clean up his spilt cabbages', I believe."

"Oh yes. Well, it is true, Sam, though- well perhaps not the 'accidentally' part."

Sam shook his head, but was smiling almost as big as his friend. 

Frodo leaned over to look at him. "I take the look in you eye to mean you forgive me?"

Sam looked up, the mirth still shining brightly in his eyes. "No, Mr. Frodo, I wouldn't say that. I was only thinking of when Miss Rose and Yarrow came for tea."

"When?"

"When they came for tea at Bagshot Row."

Frodo's eyes went, if possible, wider than they were normally. "Oh no, Sam. No, not the-"

"What? You don't remember that?"

"Oh yes. I do." Frodo leaned back, a playful grouchiness about him. "All too well."

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Frodo felt another cool breeze touch his face, moving his dark curls about. It then proceeded to turn the page on the leather-bound book he held in front of him. He was, indeed, still in the middle of previous page, not wanting to foil the kind wind's efforts, he didn't turn it back. Besides, he wasn't quite reading anyway. It was too beautiful a day to bury himself in a book. Why read of beautiful, far-off lands, when the Shire stood before his eyes?

But still, his mind wandered far, imagining the humble Shire was instead standing East of the Misty Mountains. That the small wood around him was instead the great forest of Mirkwood. That the farmhouse a half mile West, was the palace of King Thranduil, lord of the wood elves. That every bird that landed nearby was a great spider, hunting through the trees for prey. 

He was beyond actually doing anything to accompany these day dreams, though . When he had been very little, he'd found choice sticks and imagined he held the elvan blade, Sting, and the first thing it could destroy without snapping the 'blade' was automatically deemed one of Bilbo's giants. As he lifted a branch from the ground, he could remember vividly his imaginary battles. He would attack the stationary trees and bushes, pretending to defend everyone in Mirkwood. Imagining that every twist or thrust could change everything; that *he*, Frodo Baggins, could save all Middle Earth.

He shook his head, and leaned it against the trunk behind him, letting the book fall into his lap. Yes, well, not much chance for a hobbit to save Middle Earth, was there?

"Frodo."

Frodo jumped, whirling around, holding the twig he'd been imagining was Sting, outstretched like the weapon he'd been thinking it to be.

Sam jumped back, his hands up in the same automatic, and yet not quite necessary or helpful, gesture.

"Sam!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo, I didn't mean to startle you! You scared *me* as well!"

Frodo looked down at the stick in his hand, and turning slightly pink, tossed it over his shoulder, and sat back on his heals. "What are you doing here?"

"I- I wanted your help." Sam answered slowly, letting his hands fall from the defensive pose.

"My help? With what?"

Sam looked awkwardly over his shoulder, and sat down next to Frodo. "Here. Come with me. Please Mr. Frodo?"

"All right, Sam." Frodo pushed himself off the ground, and followed Sam into the woods.

The two finally stopped behind a big oak tree. "There." Sam whispered, pointing around the tree.

Frodo leaned around it, and blinked. "…Sam? It's only Yarrow Brandybuck and Rose Cotton."

Sam nodded blankly, and Frodo slowly caught on. 

"Sh! Mr. Frodo, they'll hear you, 'f you keep laughing like that!" 

"I- I- I- I'm sorry, Sam." Frodo murmured, trying his hardest to keep his laughter down in volume. "What'd you want my help with?"

"I want to say hullo, but I don't rightly know how I'll do it without looking foolish."

"Oh yes." Frodo said in a mock-serious tone. "We don't want Yarrow Brandybuck thinking you look foolish."

"Well, I thought maybe you would know what to say to her- well to them."

"Well," Frodo leaned against the tree, and putting his would-be-serious tone back on. "I think you should go up to her and say 'Hullo! I would like you two, especially you, Rosie, to come for afternoon tea at my place on Bagshot Row. In fact, I'll escort you there!'"

"And I suppose *you* would prepare everything."

"Of course! Why, I would even make some parsley stew for you two-" He cleared his throat loudly "I mean three. Performers too! A special presentation for Rosie."

Sam shook his head slowly, still watching the two hobbit-lasses, and felt Frodo's hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Samwise. Just be yourself."

"And that I shall, Mr. Frodo." He said decrepitly, and then added, in a not-so-brave tone, "Once I work up the courage, at least."

Frodo smiled softly, and sat down with his book again. Sam, Sam, Sam. He thought, leaning his head against the tree trunk again. He never *did* think very well of himself. He needed to be more brave, secure, perhaps he merely needed practice…

Frodo suddenly heard voices. Once he caught them, he realized he'd been hearing them awhile. And it sounded vaguely like:

"…on Bagshot Row. In fact, I'll escort you there!"

Frodo leapt to his feet, and, forgetting his book, raced through the woods to where the girls had been. Sam now stood between them, holding out an arm for each, and they were strolling towards Hobbiton again.

Frodo stopped dead in his tracks as Sam turned around, and gave him a wink. But- if Sam was really serving afternoon tea at his house, then-

"And I suppose *you* would prepare everything."

"Of course! Why, I would even make some parsley stew for you two…"

He then heard Sam's voice again. "…some parsley stew, entertainment…" Frodo gulped. He didn't even know *how* to make parsley stew! 

Running the whole way, he took the shortest rout to Bagshot Row, and finally reached the circular door. Luckily, Sam's Gaffer had also gone elsewhere for afternoon tea, but- well, maybe not so lucky. Perhaps *he* knew how to make parsley stew.

Frodo knew how to brew tea quite well, so he went ahead and started boiling the water over the open fire, and lay some of the better herbs on the table, ready to be added. 

He turned to one of the cupboards, and pulled out one of Sam's best pots, setting it loudly on the table. He then went for the basket of freshly-picked vegetables sitting by the door, and pulled some healthy sprigs of parsley from it's contents. A couple nervous moments later, and he was pouring the boiling water from the teapot into the empty pot, and then began to boil some more for the tea.

He stood there, a long moment of terrible silence hanging over him. What now? He slowly, carefully, dropped the parsley in, leaf by leaf. Then, grabbing a wooden ladle, he began to stir the dry leafs into the boiled water with a soft; stirring for awhile, then picking up the ladle letting the green globs fall back into the pot, and the sound of it echoed through the otherwise silent kitchen. *sssllrrrllrrrlllrrrrrr…sllloonk!* This *couldn't* be the traditional way of making parsley stew.

Deciding it would be nicer, and wanting an excuse to abandon the 'stew', moved the tea kettle and tea herbs into the sitting room, rather than the kitchen table. Nodding, satisfied, he was forced to return to the soggy leaves floating in warm water that was meant to be a stew.

He was still prodding at the limp leaves half-heartedly with the wooden ladle, when he heard the door-knob turn, and the creaking of hinges. This was immediately followed by Sam's voice, and the light giggle of Rose and Yarrow.

Frodo backed further into the kitchen so no one would see him standing there. He didn't want to ruin Sam's time with Rosie, and finding Frodo there, stirring a pot of water with soggy leafs floating in it would certainly attracted a lot of attention.

He stayed in the kitchen, listening to the light chatter and the slight clink of teacups, not knowing what to do. The only interesting change, was when Rosie hissed slightly, and reported burning her tongue, which was followed by Sam's ardent apology. Then the worst came.

"Sam," came Yarrow's small voice. "did you say you made parsley stew?"

"Well, not me no. But there is some, if you should like it when you're done with your tea."

A loud clatter then came, accompanied by a light gasp.

"Miss Yarrow, I'm so sorry. Here I'll get you-"

"No, no, Sam. Yes, I'm fine, Rosie. No, I'll get a towel. Just a moment!"

Frodo shrank into the shadow of the pantry, just as the hobbit came in, tea-stains down the front of her yellow dress. She stood before the water pump, wetting a towel and swiping her dress with it awhile. Then, apparently satisfied, she set down the towel, and turned from the water pump.

"Hullo, Frodo. Let me see it."

Frodo's eyes went wide, and he slowly stepped from the shadows. "See what?"

"The parsley stew you've been trying to make."

Frodo's jaw dropped this time, and with his eyes already the size of teacup saucers, it was fairly comical.

"Come, come. It's not so surprising. Thanks to Sam always making food for you, you never were a very good cook." She peered into the pot he was holding, and shook her head, unable to hide the evident smile on her face. "Tsk tsk." She sighed, taking the pot from Frodo, smiling again. "Let me help you."

"What about Rosie and Sam?" 

Yarrow glanced over her shoulder, in time to hear the high, sincere giggle from Rosie. "I think they'll be just *fine*." And Frodo returned the knowing smile.

"That *was* a beautiful day, that was." Rosie said softly, and Sam nodded,

"Days on the Hill are always lovely, but that one was loveliest."

"It was a good day to pick flowers. I still have the Buttercups you put in my hair. I dried them, and hung them from my ceiling." she beamed at him.

"Oh-" Sam went red. "I don't have the Bluets anymore. That is- I should like to, but I lost them." he looked down and pretended to find the floor very amusing.

"How 'bout some stew?" Rosie asked brightly, trying to get the sorry face off of Sam. 

"Sure." He said, pulling himself out of his chair, and going into the kitchen. There, Frodo and Yarrow stood over a pot sitting over the open fire. They looked up as he entered the room.

"Uh, Sam?" Frodo began. "The- the stew won't be done in time to have it now. I'm very sorry, I couldn't figure it out, and we got a late start. I don't think we have enough parsley for it anymore either."

Sam nodded, and shrugged. "That's all right. Miss Rose will have to leave soon anyway." Frodo bit his lip, the fact that Sam didn't use Rose's nick-name worried him.

"Wait- what about the entertainment?" Yarrow asked, trying to find something to cheer Sam up. This, unfortunately had the wrong affect. Sam looked up at Frodo, who's face had gone quite pale.

"I- forgot." Frodo studdered, biting his lip so hard that the blood-veins became twice as evident, and Sam's face fell. "Look- look Sam. I wasn't expecting you to take me seriously! 

"You weren't?" Now Sam's face went pale. 

"No, I- I was only joking." Frodo admitted quietly.

"I'm a silly hobbit, that's what I am! Just like my Gaffer says, 'you take things seriously that ought not be taken so' that's what I've done."

"Sam, please. Don't think of what your Gaffer would say of you. It's not your fault."

Sam sighed, and shook his head. "I'd best tell Miss Rose it's time to go home."

"Sam," Frodo put a hand on his shoulder. "surely you could play a tune on your flute?" his voice was imploring.

Sam looked up at Frodo slowly, and nodded. "I suppose, it's least I could do."

Rosie was sitting in the high back chair still when Sam came in, holding his wooden flute in his trembling hand. Behind him, Yarrow came, and sat beside Rosie, while Frodo stood, leaning against the doorframe of kitchen.

Sam smiled half-heartedly at Rosie, and put the wooden flute to his lips. A soft melody filled the room, calming everyone who heard it. After awhile, Yarrow closed her eyes, letting the music sink in, but not Rosie. She never once took her bright eyes off Sam.

When the melody was finished, the three hobbits gave it's player a round of whole-hearted applause.

"Did you write that, Sam?" Yarrow asked, smiling at him.

Sam when a little red again. "I- well no. I play it a lot though. What it's right name is, I don't really know. But it's light, and it's pretty, so I call it Rose."

Rosie was completely glowing. Frodo didn't even know if she'd really heard the tune, she was too busy staring bright-eyed at Sam. "It was *wonderful* Sam. It was perfect." Rosie's smile got, if possible, happier, and she stood up. "It's been one my best afternoons ever!"

Sam's face was bright red, and he was twisting the flute nervously in his hands, but when she said this, he beamed and glowed almost as brightly as she did. "Mine too."

"It went very well, Sam." Frodo assured an hour later, putting another set of dishes in the stone sink, to await washing.

Sam sighed. "The stew didn't work, the conversation went all wrong, Miss Yarrow spilt tea on her dress, Rosie burnt her tongue, because I was not decent enough to test the water temperature, and I dare say I missed a note or two on the music. Music that was not even my own. And all because I took you too seriously. Well done, Samwise. Oh yes, well done."

Frodo shook his head, forsaking the dishes in the sink a moment, and moving beside his friend. "Sam. Did you see her face? When you finished your music? The sun itself could not have shone brighter. She had the best day ever today."

"No thanks to me, Samwise indeed I am! Half-wise. So simple, I can't do any of it right! I am a foolish hobbit."

"No, Sam, no." Frodo sat on the edge of the table, steering Sam gently into the chair in front of it. "It was *my* fault. Rosie burnt her tongue on the tea, for I did not think to boil the water for the tea first and give it time to cool for you. Miss Yarrow only spilt her tea so she could come help me with the stew *I* couldn't figure out and therefore it was late. The only reason the conversation was awkward was because Yarrow had come to help me, and wasn't out there to keep the conversation moving." He tilted his head to the side a bit. "But *you* Sam. You played your heart out to Rosie. You made her glow as only you've ever been able to do. You saved the afternoon, Sam. You really did."

Sam sat back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on Frodo. "Do you- d'you really think that, Mr. Frodo? Or are you saying all this to only make me feel better?"

"Yes, I do. I really do."

Sam nodded, sighing, and letting a smile slide across his lips. "Did she really smile?"

"Ooh she did." Frodo nodded for emphasis, and almost laughed at the memory of it. "and even you said that it was a wonderful afternoon."

"I did, but it was mostly for being polite. But- yes now I think it was actually very- did she laugh to? I must confess, I was a little upset at the moment, and didn't notice much of her response."

"She was too busy watching your every move, I think." Frodo smiled. 

"I do wish I had not made such a fool of myself with our conversation, though." Sam murmured. 

"Don't worry, Sam. We shall both laugh about this some day."

****

*****


	3. A Bit of Rainy Weather

****

Hullo fellow Hobbits! ;)

Oh, I am so glad you are enjoying it. It was a great deal of fun to write, and I enjoyed it immensely! (especially after the 'Concerning Hobbits' scene in the extended cut DVD)

Yeah, Sarah, 'cute' is *the* adj. for Rosie and Sam! :) aren't they adooooooorible? Yep, yep yep yep! *begins to imitate Ducky…for some reason* ;)

Hey Kellen, I'm glad you're still enjoying this! *blushes* I must say, I don't deserve any of the praise about my writing, but am SO glad you like it! And, no, Frodo can't cook. What *would* he do without Sam? Die, probably. Certainly in light of TTT and *especially* ROFTK! And who *wouldn't* want a sweetie like Sam? Especially while looking like an elf! ;)

What do you mean, no one wants to hang out with a churchgoer? *I* would! I hope at least, or I could never live with myself!…quite literally. ;) Oh, and I'm very glad you had a good trip, though I had to be temporarily deprived of your pleasant ramblings! :P Keep it up, Kellen! Thank you ever so much!

Ooooh I know, Shamllow, they're just- just- so Q-T! Ready everyone? (1,2,3...) AAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*sigh*

I just love writing about them. It makes me want to hug the closest being! Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeally tight! Poor Zoe. Why does she keep hanging around when I'm writing? Oh well. She needed to be skinnier anyway. ;)

Well, I'm thrilled that you three are enjoying this so much, and hope this one's as good!

Here 'goes!

Chapter 3

A Bit of Rainy Weather

Frodo shook with silent laughter, and could almost feel Sam doing the same beside him. "I to this day can't make parsley stew." Frodo admitted, wiping a few tears of laughter away. Sam also wiped some tears from his deep blue eyes, and looked up at Frodo.

"I must admit, I'm hard to get through to, am I not, Mr. Frodo. I made myself quite difficult then."

"You did indeed," Frodo conceded, "but soon as you knew that Rosie took such pleasure in your flute-playing, you were suddenly sure of it being a good afternoon for you and her alike. And once having that decided, you said the worst that happened was Yarrow had to wash her dress, and your Gaffer was made to have parsley stew several meals in a row. But for the most part, as even you said that day, it was worth it."

"Indeed." Sam agreed.

"Rosie's always been willing to be content around you. No matter what the conditions. Remember the handkerchief?"

Sam nodded, smiling broadly. "You mean with the storm?"

Frodo returned the knowing smile. "What else?"

****

*****

"Mr. Frodo?"

"Hullo Sam!" Frodo opened Bag End's door wide enough for his friend. "Bilbo and I were just having second breakfast. Would you like to join us?"

"Thank you, but I was actually wondering if I may have Rosie's handkerchief. The one she left a few days ago after our tea?"

Frodo nodded, smiling. "I wondered when you'd want that. Worked up the courage to return it to her, have you?"

"I think so."

"Well, then, let me get it for you." Frodo returned shortly with a white piece of cloth, trimmed with lace, and baring the embroidered letters RC with a rose sewn bellow. "Here it is!"

Sam took it carefully as though it were a priceless jewel, and put it gently in his pocket. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo."

"You're welcome Sam. Why again did you not keep it yourself? That is unless you should like to not explain to me."

"No, that's quite all right, Master. I was afraid I'd lose it or something. I don't want to lose Rosie's things if I can help it."

"I understand, though you are not as forgetful as you think, Sam. As I'm sure even Rosie has told you before."

"Yes, I suppose on thought, she has."

"And yet you refuse you are any better than you say you are! Well, I hope it goes well!"

"As do I, Frodo sir."

But Sam didn't go immediately to the Cotton's, being too preoccupied with still working on his nerve.

__

"You're not brave enough for it, Samwise. You shall make a fool of yourself!" something in his head told him. _"But that doesn't matter, if you *truly* want to see Rosie. You *do* want to see Rosie, Sam Gamgee, don't you?" _another voice insisted, somewhere in his heart.

Sometime between afternoon tea and supper, he made his way to Bywater, and knocked on the Cotton's O-shaped door. For awhile, there was no answer. Then, Farmer Cotton appeared in the doorway, and smiled down at the hobbit in front of him. "Hullo Sam! What brings you here? Rosie's not home now."

Sam's face fell. "Where'd she go?"

"She and Nibs went into the woods to collect flower seeds. 'tis almost Winter, and we should like to grow some flowers in our own grass once Spring comes back."

"I have her handkerchief. She left it at my house on Bagshot Row. She and Miss Yarrow Brandybuck came for tea awhile back there."

"I see. Well, I can take it and give it to her when she returns." he caught the look in Sam's eyes, a look of disappointment, but near-assent. "Or, you may go look for her and Nibs in the woods. Perhaps they should like help and company."

"Then I shall go help them!" Sam promised brightly, and turned towards the woods.

"Just, please Sam, tell Nibs to come home soon!" Farmer Cotton called after him. "It will be getting dark, and looks as though it will rain!"

Sam made his way, as quickly as possible through the woods, until he finally spotted Rosie and her brother. They were kneeling in the dirt, and collecting the flower seeds in it with steady fingers. Sam approached slowly. "Hullo!" he called, and they turned.

"Hullo Sam!" Rose smiled brightly, and Nibs raised a dirty hand in greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to return your handkerchief, Rosie. You left it at my house."

"Oh you found it! I was wondering if maybe you hadn't found it, or decided to keep it!"

"You knew I had it?" he asked, looking more than a little confused. 

"Why of course I did. How else would I get you to come by some time?"

Sam's jaw dropped. "You left it on purpose?!"

"Is there something wrong with that?" she asked innocently. 

"No! No, it's all right. I'm glad I could come help you. That is, if you want me to."

"Why not?" Nibs smiled, handing Sam a small, leather, draw-string pouch. "Why don't you collect all the Sweetclover seeds, and put them in that bag. You know the difference between Sweetclover and Tiarella don't you?"

"Now, Nibs." Rosie said, in a good-natured reprimand. "Sam knows everything about flowers!"

Sam glowed with pride, and began to pull the pearly seeds from the Sweetclover blossoms.

It began to get dark, and Sam had already notified Nibs of his father's wish to have them home soon, so they began to head back, their leather bags full of seeds, ensuring spring at least in the Cotton's garden next year.

Halfway through the woods, it began to rain, and the three hobbits were soon soaked. They trudged on, getting more and more wet as they went. Suddenly, while climbing over a fallen tree, Rosie slipped, sliding backwards in the mud.

"Rosie!" Nibs and Sam stopped abruptly, and pulled her slowly to her feet. "You okay?" Nibs asked, steadying her on the small incline.

"I'm fine." she assured, but she was looking around slightly panicked. 

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, looking around where she was looking.

"My bag of Gentian seeds! I can't find them." she sighed, watching the mud churn beneath her feet. "I don't think I can plant them if their covered in mud, even if I could. And they were my favorite."

"I'm sorry Rosie." Sam told her, giving her damp shoulder a squeeze. "They were my favorite too."

"Come on, Rose. Sam." Nibs put an arm around his sister's shoulders, and they kept going. "We need to get out of the rain a bit. Give it time to slow down." they ducked into the first rock cave they could find. It was more like a big rock sitting over a indentation in the side of the embankment, but it worked as a shelter for the small hobbits.

Rosie sat shivering against the dirt wall, until Nibs moved over, sitting up beside her to keep her warm, and the two began to drift off that way. Sam watched them, but especially Rosie as they slept. He sat against the rock wall beside them, and stared into the never-ending rain, thinking of Rosie, and how pretty she looked when she was sleeping, listening to her small breath easing in and out.

Suddenly, he felt a hand reach around his neck. He jumped, and found himself staring into deep brown eyes. "You look cold." Rosie whispered, and pulled him into her and Nibs' circle. After awhile, he relaxed into her grip, and laid an arm around her shoulders, eventually feeling Nibs' arm back there as well. Then, Rosie fell into a genuine sleep, and let her head fall on his shoulder, her curls brushing his face.

They sat there for hours, but Sam didn't want to fall asleep. He just sat, thinking of how pretty Rosie's hair smelled, how fresh it was mixed with the light odor of rain, and listening to the downpour also mix with Nibs' light snores, and Rosie's light breath. How could he fall asleep when there were things like this to be hearing, seeing and feeling…?

Sam awoke with a start. Nibs was kneeling next to him, shaking his shoulder. "Sam? Sam. I'm going to go back to our home, and tell what's been on. Everyone'll be worried sick about us."

"I'll come with-" Sam began groggily.

"No, stay here with Rosie." Nibs told him, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "And don't let her get too cold or wet. Don't really want her catching anything."

"I'll take care of her, you can be sure of that." he promised, wrapping his other arm around Rosie's chest to clasp the one around her shoulders on the other side of her small body.

"I know you will, Sam." Nibs smiled, and ducked out of the cave and into the sill-pouring rain.

Sam adjusted his position next to Rosie, and sat a long while. He stared at here, and smiled as noticed her small fingers tangled in the light brown curls that crowned her head. Gently, ever gently, he moved her hand down, releasing the beautiful locks. "Don't want you reconsidering a cut, do we Rosie?" and he smiled fondly down at her awhile longer.

After awhile, he grew a little restless. Now he was awake, he didn't really feel like sleeping anymore. Slowly, he moved out from under Rosie, and lay her on the soft ground. Standing up, he looked into the rain and nodded. He knew exactly what he could do.

Rosie's eyes opened slowly. It was still raining fairly steadily outside, and she could hear it echoing through the nearly empty cave. Nearly empty.

She sat up, and found she wasn't as alone as she thought. Sam was sitting, his back against the wall, his eyes half-closed.

"Samwise Gamgee." he jumped slightly, and looked over at her. "You are an incredible mess. What happened?"

He smiled sheepishly, and handed her something. She fiddled with the leather pouch, and finally opened it's drawstrings. She let a few particles that looked rather like bread crumbs trickle into her hand. "Gentian seeds…" she gasped, and looked up at Sam. "You went out in the mud and rain to get these?"

"I know, there aren't very many, but I plucked all them I could find. I'll look for more if you-" but Rosie had flung herself across the cave, and into his arms. She sat there a long moment, her head resting on his chest. 

"Thank you ever so much, Sam." She whispered.

"You're welcome Rosie." he whispered back, blushing the color of what the Gentians would look like in bloom. "You're worth it. And more, Rosie. And much more."

She hugged him tight, and finally let go. "Shall we be off to Bywater again?"

Sam glance out at the rain. "I suppose we might want to, unless you want Nibs and Farmer Cotton having to come through the rain to find us."

Rosie jumped up, her head almost brushing the ceiling. "Well, we don't want that! Come along!" and with that, she strolled out into the rain, and Sam had to run to catch up. 

"Why, it's not raining at all hard out here." Rosie mused. "In fact, I don't feel-" she looked up, and giggled. "Sam, put your coat back on! You'll be soaked."

"I'm soaked anyway." he responded, smiling broadly, and continuing to hold his coat over Rosie's head. Rosie shook her head, smiling.

"I hope you're not doing this *just* because Nibs' always worrying about me."

"No," he responded simply. "I don't want you to get your locks wet. For you *do* get frazzled over it, and I shouldn't like you to cut those lovely curls!"

"You silly hobbit!" she exclaimed, giving him a playful shove. "Lets run through rain!"  


"You'll get wet," he warned. She grinned at him, and stepped out from under the protective coat. 

"Well, too late to stay dry *now*!" she giggled, her cheery laugh rippling through the air. "Lets off to Bywater!"

Sam grinned back, and, after slipping his coat back on, the two raced through the rain, and back towards Bywater, Sam calling at her all the way. "If Nibs asks, this was *your* idea, Rosie!"

****

*****


	4. The Night We Danced

****

Hullo! Nice to see everyone again. AND NEW READERS! *shakes Angel of the Elves, and Rosie Cotton's hands vigorously* Pleased to meat you, RC and AotE! ;) I'm glad to have another Rosie-Sam-fan around! In fabulous company here. :)

Hehe, yes Shmallow, I must admit, I couldn't resist the second breakfast. Strider (luck guy) may not have known about it, but I figure hobbits would…*duh*…and I quite enjoyed putting that bit of PJ's comedy in. ;) 

And yes, Sam is *the* ultimate sweety. *sigh* Betcha' no one but Rosie knows how lucky she is! Poor hobbit lasses, turning up their noses daily at "half-wise Gamgee". They have *no* idea how much darling Rosie lucked-out! Or Sam, for that matter! ;)

*grin* I'm sure glad you copied-down your review, Sarah, I like reading them! Hehe…Farmer Cotton's very understanding…though, it doesn't take a genius to figure out how Sam feels about Rosie, or visa-versa. And I also liked the part with the handkerchief, frankly. But really, what is a girl to do, when in love with a kind, darling, oh-so-sweet, but none-the-less shy hobbit like Sam? *shakes head* only Rosie. ;)

Oooooh thank you Angel of the Elves! It's nice to have another fan! ;) And I'm on your list! *blushes* Thank you SOOO much! :) :) :)

Hi Kellen! No, you're not the first to use 'cute' as a Rosie-Sam adj….thrice in a row. Take it from one who knows from personal experience! Though, I just looked it up in the Thesaurus, and found some very good ones there. Such as:

Sweet (that one gets used some too, though) charming, adorable, darling, delightful, pleasant, and likable. 

Those are just a few I came up with, and now use for them two a lot! ;)

A pastor's daughter? Oh cool! I wonder, have you seen A Walk to Remember? Oooh you'd like it! Well, keep on reading, writing, and rambling! ;)

WOW, Rosie Cotton!…I wouldn't have guessed from you're name that you like Rosie and Sam! :P I'm glad you've enjoyed this so much so far!…man….but really, I don't deserve HALF of the those compliments! I just write Rosie and Sam as I interpret them from Peter Jakson, and Tolkien's betrayal of them. 

I see Sam as shy (of course) but deep down, very brave. Full of a bravery he has no idea of. Around Rosie, he strikes me as a bashful hobbit, but not so timid that he's afraid to feel the way he does for her, and put it into practice. 

Rosie, granted, wasn't in the books, and certainly not the movie much. But even so, I think, at least by what others say to Sam about her during the story, I get the impression that Rosie is just, plain, hopelessly in love with Sam. And even so, though she so obviously loves him so much, she isn't too forward, for Sam's sake. She's no flirt, but likes to ease Sam into a position where she can say what she thinks of him, and he feels free to do the same.

My overall take on them two, boils down to three things:

1. They are both in love

2. They handle their relationship quite well, considering their personalities

3. They are just, plain ADORIBLE!!!

Anywayz, long explanation for a simple point, which I could have said just by pointing out reason #3! ;) 

I'm glad that you guys continue to enjoy this story! I hope you will to the end. Oh, and sorry that this one's a little short! :)

Here 'goes!

Chapter 4

The Night We Danced

"Nibs was furious." Sam sighed, leaning in a more comfortable position against the dirt wall. "But Jolly and young Tom thought it a wonderful joke, when we came back, soaking to the bone. Nick actually began to laugh while Mrs. Cotton fussed over us awhile, getting us dry. And Farmer Cotton had a good enough laugh over it, once we were dry. And so did you, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo grinned. "I must confess, when the tale was told, I found it quite amusing. The very fact you came to breakfast at Bag End with your hair plastered to your face, water making a ruckus in your shoes, and one of Mrs. Cotton's blankets around your shoulders, was enough to warrant a laugh, let alone the tale behind it."

Sam nodded, and let his friend laugh over his misfortunes awhile longer, unable to hold back his own smile at hearing him laugh at all.

"You know Sam." Frodo said, letting the last of his laughter die away. "Rosie is one good memory we both have in common. I had no idea 'till now what a comfort she really is."

"How do you mean, Mr. Frodo?"

"Well, Rosie has certainly made you feel happy and complete. That's why she's such a good memory to you."

"Aye." Sam sighed, leaning against the dirt wall behind him. "And what of you, Mr. Frodo? You don't mean to be telling me that *you* love Miss Rosie."

"Me? Oh no Sam. No, Rosie was only ever meant for you. But she still brings me happiness, if only for one reason; when she is around, you're fine with being yourself. You finally have what you want. All you want. And I just adore seeing you happy, Sam." he smiled, and for a little while, the familiar boyish qualities in him leaked out, making him look young and innocent again. But just a moment, and then he began to look uncharacteristically aged and care-worn.

"I do wish I could see you as happy again, Mr. Frodo." Sam admitted, leaning forward to look his friend in the eye. "I adore seeing you happy too."

Frodo sighed, inhaling the heavy fumes wafting from somewhere in Mordor's ashes. Making him wish more than ever to be in the Shire, if only for the clean air. "I wish I could be as happy again as well, Sam. But maybe- maybe when you see Rosie again, when I see your face light up like it always does at seeing her, maybe then I shall be happy again." he laughed slightly. "So you see, we *have* to get back to the Shire someday. Else was shall become boring old hobbits who take offense at laughter, such as the Bracegirtals, most of them leastwise, and Sackville-Bagginses." he leaned forward, looking deadly serious. "And we can't smile."

At this, Sam's face broke into a huge grin, which Frodo's frown slowly turned into, and two began to laugh again.

"Hobbitses tired!" Gollum's cranky voice came from the other side of the pit. "Hobbitses need rest!"

"We aren't tired." Sam snapped, glowering at the creature. 

"We're tired! Poor Smé agol, can't sleep with talk of pretty hobbitses and hobbit's home. Gollumm gollumm. Let Smé agol sleep!"

Frodo stared blankly at Gollum a moment, and finally Sam spoke. "Was he a Bracegirtle once?" this earned him another laughing fit from Frodo, and Gollum turned sulkily towards the dirt wall again, laying a clammy hand over his pointed ear, and pressing the other ear to the wall.

Sam sighed, and watched the red orb that was meant to be a sun sink beyond the mountains of Mordor. "I wonder if she knew."

"What?" Frodo asked, turning to Sam, who was still watching the pale orange remains of the sun, as it continued to sink. The solitary streaks of color were the only things to be gained from a Mordor sunset, so Frodo turned to watch it as well.

"Rosie." Sam answered after a short while. "I wonder if somehow she knew I'd be off to an adventure. A dangerous one, at that."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, the conversation we had at your Mr. Bilbo's party for one."

****

*****

Rosie sat down hard, breathing heavily, Sam collapsing beside her. "I have been- dancing *all* night!" she giggled. "I'm quite pleased you chose to dance with me, Sam. I was afraid you didn't want to."

"Oh, I daresay I did- but, well, I suppose I needed someone to push me in the right direction."

"And push you, Mr. Frodo did indeed!" she laughed. "I confess I was so pleased at being able to dance with you, I didn't notice 'till later how much he *pushed* you into it. Did you leave your seat at all when he threw you on the dance floor?"

Sam laughed, and leaned back on the soft grass. "Now that you've come to mention it, I believe he *did* throw me, at that, and glad I am of it! How else would I have worked up the courage to dance?"

"Perhaps you would not, in which case, he did indeed do the right thing!"

The two laughed again, and lay in the cool grass awhile, catching their breath. At that moment, a loud *BOOM* came from one of the tents off a ways. Sam and Rosie both sat up, staying completely frozen until the echo of the thunderous sound had subsided. "One of Gandalf's fireworks." Sam sighed in relief, leaning back again. But he wasn't relaxed long. After awhile, they heard people running and yelling, and over the tumult Frodo's voice could be heard calling, "Bilbo! It's a dragon!"

The two ran into the circle of running hobbits, and suddenly heard a great *WHOOSH* accompanied by a loud hissing. Sam dropped to the ground, pulling Rosie with him, and they lay there a moment as a fiery-red dragon went sweeping across the party.

It soared over the lake, and steered up into the sky. But once it had reached the peek of it's ascent, it burst into a thousand bright red rockets that exploded all around the hobbits, who, though still lying on the ground, were laughing now.

Sam pushed himself up, and helped Rosie to her feet. "Fireworks." he breathed, still shaking a bit. "I guess- I was right. Though, I don't think Gandalf should go about-" he glanced over at the bright tent that now sat smoldering in the grass, and saw two hobbits standing streaked with soot. "Oh!"

"What is it?" Rosie asked, following his gaze.

"Oh, it's merely Merry and Pippin. Might have guessed it was them." he and Rosie both shook their heads, laughing slightly, though not as heartily as usual, being still shaken up by the frightening firework.

"Sam," Rosie asked, as they moved to a table of food, unconsciously walking to the rhythm of the cheery music the temporarily frightened musicians had resumed. "Are you afraid of dragons?"

Sam turned to her, surprised by the question, but in no doubt of it's answer. "Yes."

She looked thoughtful a moment. "You shouldn't be. Why should you?"

"Why shouldn't I? They're huge, and dangerous, and breath fire and- well why shouldn't I fear them?"

"Because you have something that they don't have." Rosie pointed out, looking over at him. "No hobbit, no human, no elf, no dragon. None of them will ever have what you've got."

"And what have I got?" Sam asked, bewildered. 

"You have a brave heart."

"I'm not brave, Rosie. I'm really not!" Sam pushed his point decisively, but Rosie was already shaking her head.

"You're brave in your heart, Sam. In your *heart*. Perhaps you wouldn't be able to conquer a dragon single-handed without reason, but if that dragon attacked Mr. Frodo, you would do anything you could. I know it. Because you're brave enough to overcome fear in order to save the ones you love." she smiled, and lay a hand on his forearm.

"I don't feel brave." he admitted, turning a little red.

"No, perhaps you don't." she agreed, "But when the time comes, Sam Gamgee, you will do whatever you need to, no matter what the cost. Bravery or no, you *will* do it."

There was silence awhile, while they stood, watching the party carry on, to a cheerful tune. All the hobbits had returned to the dance-floor, though Gandalf couldn't be spotted in them, and Sam assumed that he had gone to deal with the wayward Merry and Pippin. 

Frodo stood up from a circle of other hobbits in the middle of a dance, but paused long enough to smile reassuringly at Sam, then whirled about, clasped hands with Yarrow, and the two danced off into the fray. It had given Sam courage, though, and he looked over at Rosie, and smiled softly.

"Thank you Rosie. Though I doubt very much that should ever need such bravery."

She smiled back. "Maybe not. But it's there. Always there."

****

*****

__

"Always there. Always there. Always there."

Sam shook his head as the words echoed in it over and over. Frodo looked at him curiously. "But that was years ago."

"I know that, Mr. Frodo, I know." he sighed. "But Rosie never gave me advice before, I know that too. And then there's what she said to me. Last of all, what she said before I came to Bag End, and Gandalf found me and had me leave with you. I can remember her words as though they were yesterday."

****

*****


	5. Her Love For Me

****

Hullo all! Nice to see everyone. :)

*blushes and giggles* Kellen? You are so fond of making me blush. ;) No, really, I'm very glad you liked it! I'm certainly not on par with Cassia and Sio, but I enjoy writing, and it appears that some enjoy my writing to, so it's good enough for me! :D

Oh, I reeeeeeeeeally like A Walk To Remember! We just watched it again last night, and I liked it even better, I think, because I knew that she was going to die, and when and how it would happen…woopsies! Sorry, guys. SPOILERS FOR A WALK TO REMEMBER HERE!…. ;)

Anyways, I liked the part where Landon asks Jamie for help, and she says "All right. Then I'll pray for you." lol! That was cleaver. :)

Sorry, sorry, Rosie and Sam have nada to do with Jamie and Landon, huh?

Hullo Sarah! Oh, I'm glad you liked it! And it didn't CUT OFF YOUR REVIEW!!! Yay!! ;) Woopsies! Sorry about the slip-up. Yes, PORtrayal is what I had meant to say. *sigh* ah well. At least it was only feedback, and not in the story! :)

Oh, and besides. I really don't much care for the word Betrayal any more. *glares at Cassia* OH Legolas is in for a mucho grande probelemo!

HI Rose Cotton! Yeah, Rosie's 'premonition' as you called it, I thought, gave her a bit more character outside of just being a hobbit-lass who happens to like Sam. And, yes, as annoying as Gollum is, I found that in the end, he was one of the most fun characters to write. ;)

Whoah! Angel of the Elves, I'm glad you're enjoying it!….SO MUCH! ;) Yes, I very much enjoyed the Extended Cut of Fotr. Hey, if nothing else, we got to see more of Rosie, right? :D Oh, and you like Ducky? *grins* amazing the kind of things one picks up on, even from a 5-year-old's cartoon! Yep yep yep! ;)

Yeah, Siri, they're cute. Adorable. The most darling little being in Middle Earth! :D Sorry for cutting you off like that. The conclusion of the last chapter is right here anyways. :)

Yeah, I know, Sam goes to fight Shelob, and all the while, starts whispering "I'm not afraid of Dragons" or, you know, we could go ahead and say "There ARE no dragons" and be done with it!…..nah, Nio and Sam just *don't* mix. ;)

Well, onto the next post! (2nd to last) my, my, how the time flies! *sigh* AACK! No, that rhyme wasn't supposed to be there. ;)

Kay, on we go! 

Chapter 5

Her Love For Me

Sam sat on a stool in the Green Dragon, draining the last of his ale, and sighed contentedly. He glanced over the counter where Rosie stood, drying out a clean mug, and chatting animatedly with Yarrow Brandybuck over the glossy counter.

"Sam?" Frodo was waving farewell to Nick and Jolly Cotton as he made his way towards his friend. "Sam! There you are, I was beginning to fear you had returned to Bagshot Row and not bid me goodnight!"

Sam smiled slightly, and Frodo caught the hesitant look. "Is Ted Sandman spreading rumors about me again? Honestly, Sam, I really *don't* care that they think I've completely cracked! Goodness, let them think what they wish."

"No, sir, it's nothing like that."

"Then what's wrong? For any with eyes can see there is something troubling you."

"It's Miss- it's Rosie. She's been looking over at me a great deal, and I can't say why."

Frodo glanced over at the hobbit-lass in time to catch her automatically averting her gaze, and focusing back on Yarrow. "Why would she look at you so?"

"I don't know!" Sam exclaimed, pushing his empty mug across the table. He sat back shaking his head, and sighed. "I'm greatly sorry, Mr. Frodo, for being short. Especially with you." he shook his head again, and looked over his shoulder at Rosie one last time. "Let's go. I daresay I could use rest."

"Of course Sam, but I must bid farewell to Farmer Cotton first, for he is here with young Tom this evening to help Rosie."

"Of course, Mr. Frodo, I'll go and wait by the door." Sam got up, and moved towards the Green Dragon's doorway, leaning against it, breathing in the cool air outside, and simply thinking.

"Sam?"

He jumped, and turned around. "Oh, evening, Rosie."

"Are you leaving?" she asked, an unfamiliar insecurity in her voice.

"Well, soon as Mr. Frodo has said his farewell to your father and young Tom, yes."

She moved forward, and looked deep into his blue eyes. "And will you come back?"

"Of course, Rosie, we always do. Perhaps even tomorrow!"

"Don't make promises you're not sure you can keep." she warned, still looked a little worried, but a smile tugging at her thin lips. "Will you promise to help me plant some more Gentians and Bluets in the garden in Spring?" she asked hopefully.

"Why of course, though you told me not to make promises I'm not sure of keeping."

"Well, you shall have to keep it then." she smiled softly, and paused a moment. "They won't be planted until you're here to help me, and my family shall be ever so disappointed if there aren't any Gentians this Spring."

"Then, unless I want to face Nibs, and young Tom, for they have been the fondest of your flowers, I shall help you with your garden, Rosie. That's a promise."

Again she smiled, but there was a look of concern still there. Sam began walking back to the doorway, and then stopped, and turned. "I'm not afraid of dragons anymore, Rosie."

This time the smile was completely genuine. "I love you, Sam. How I do."

Sam went bright red, but managed to answer. "I love too, Rosie."

She smiled, if possible, even bigger just as Frodo walked up behind Sam. "Goodnight then, lads!" she called as they both walked into the evening air. 

Sam was glad of the dark, for Frodo couldn't see how flushed his face had become at the outright answer he'd given Rosie. What he didn't know, was that Frodo had not entirely missed the conversation, and was smiling broadly.

As they journeyed in the direction of Bag End, a voice heavy with much ale, rang from the doorway behind them. "Sweet maiden of the golden ale!" the drunk hobbit slurred, as he grinned stupidly at Rosie, and made his way from the Green Dragon.

Sam glanced over his shoulder, and muttered hotly "Boy, mind who you're sweet-talking."

"Don't worry, Sam." Frodo admonished, giving Sam's shoulder a squeeze. "Rosie knows and idiot when she sees one."

"Does she?" Sam asked, and when Frodo saw the look of distress on his face, he almost laughed. 

"Trust me here, Sam. I doubt very much that Rosie thinks you among them!"

Sam looked slightly uncertain a moment, and a look of extreme discomfort came across his face. Then, Rosie's words flew through his mind. 

"I love you, Sam. How I do."

And Sam had the happiest of thoughts all the way back to Bag End.

Rosie watched Sam go, Frodo in step beside him. She barely even noticed the drunken hobbit grinning next to her, and even when she smiled courteously, and glanced a goodnight to him, her thoughts were on Sam. "I'll see you in the Spring, Sam." she whispered, so only she could have heard the words. 

And Rosie would have certainly stayed there, with thoughts of that shiest, calmest, dearest hobbit keeping her more than company, had she not had to turn into the Green Dragon again, to keep Pipin from having more ale.

****

*****

"She couldn't have *known* Sam." Frodo pointed out, putting another empty water-bottle in his pack, it's contents being shared between the two, but now was no more. So caught up were they in talking of Rosie, Frodo barely noticed his burning throat anymore.

"I know that. But maybe- she knew that I'd be needing to do something great someday, and thought now was the time to talk of it."

"Maybe," Frodo leaned against the dirt wall again, and sighed. "Who would have supposed it possible to bring cheer into Mordor?"

Sam shook his head. "Only Rosie could have done it."

"Indeed. You should tell her, when we get back to the Shire."

Sam nodded, swallowing hard, and suddenly turned from his master. Maybe he wouldn't notice. But Frodo had seen the tears, and moved forward, putting a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. "You *will* see her again, Sam. You were meant to be together. Forever. Trust me, dearest friend, you'll see her again."

Sam's voice shook as he responded. "You know, Mr. Frodo? Dragons aren't the only thing to be afraid of. What about heartache?" and at this, he turned, his blue eyes filling with tears prompted by an uncharacteristically miserable heart, and he looked pleadingly at his friend. "'cause I know I might be risking it, so afraid am I of losing Rosie. And I don't think I can conquer *that*. I don't think I can go on without her, Frodo sir, I don't!"

"You won't need to conquer it." Frodo whispered softly, pulling his friend into a hug, and wrapping his arms protectively around him, as if to shut out the despair seldom seen in his dearest of companions. "Oh Sam. I promise you'll see her again." he felt Sam bury his face in the other's shoulder, and his own shoulders shook gently.

"I wish I knew." Sam, could barely whisper through his constricted throat, and Frodo's thick cloak.

"You do." Frodo pulled him back, holding him at arm's length. "You promised you'd help with Rosie's garden, and if you have to walk all the way to the Shire in order to make it for Spring, then that's what we'll do."

Sam smiled slightly. "Don't make promises you're not sure you can keep, master."

"Well then." Frodo said, carefully brushing the salty tears on Sam's face off with his sleeve. "I guess I'll have to make sure I keep it." gently, he steered his friend towards one of the travel-packs lying on the ground. "You take the first rest, Sam. Dream about Rosie and those memories of her. Cling to them. For I daresay you will not find such happiness in the wakeful hours in Mordor."

Sam nodded, and lay his head on the pack, not at all ashamed of the tears he'd shed in fear, for his friend had been to understanding to bring on embarrassment. "Thank you, Mr. Frodo."

"Thank Rosie." he told him softly. "When you go back to the Shire and help her with her garden. When you two are planting the Garardias, tell her of all we said today, and thank her. I can almost hear her laughing now."

Sam laughed lightly, closing his eyes, he could almost hear her as well. 

"I'm blushing Sam! You didn't *really* quote my comments on dragons to Mr. Frodo, did you? He must've laughed, for I daresay, I don't make a good reference to wise advice!"

He could just see her speaking those very words. In her high, sweet voice…"Mr. Frodo?"

"Yes?" Frodo responded, leaning wearily against the dirt pit's wall again.

"We were going to plant Gentians."

Frodo smiled. "Of course, Sam. I don't know the difference between Virvain and Lobilia, remember? And besides. Only *you* would know the difference. And I am glad of that."

Sam laughed, and rolled over, letting his mind travel back to the Shire to help Rosie with her flowers; momentarily oblivious to the dark land of Mordor around him. 

Frodo watched him doze off, and did his best to keep his weary body awake to stay on watch. His mind also drifted, but to a few days, but then perhaps only a few hours ago, to the conversation he'd had with Sam.

__

"…Samwise Gamgee, my dear hobbit-indeed, Sam, my dearest hobbit, friend of friends-I do not think we need to give thought to what comes after that. To do the job as you put it-what hope is there that we ever shall? And if we do, who knows what will come of that? If the One goes into the Fire, and we are at hand? I ask you, Sam, are we ever likely to need bread again? I think not…"

But he had been wrong to say this. True, there was little hope for their survival, even if they reached Mount Doom. More so, really. But he didn't need to say such things to Sam. 

He felt his shoulder ache slightly, and was reminded of the wound there, left by the Black Rider's morgal blade. There was not much hope left for him now, for even Gandalf had said that the wound would never truly heal. But Sam still had so much.

He glanced down at his sleeping friend again, and sighed. Sam had everything to lose, and so much yet to gain. Had Frodo smashed all hopes of getting these things back? He dearly wished he had thought further before mentioning such dark thoughts to his yet hopeful friend.


	6. Tributes to Forever

****

Oh, guys I am so sorry it took me forever to post! We've been extremely busy…the one thing I *don't* like about Christmas. But anyways, here now! ;)

*giggles* I thought you'd find the "dumb hobbit" especially funny, Hannah! :D I very much enjoyed inserting that part, personally. I can't IMAGINE why. Oh! Oh I know. It's probably because it's got FRODO in it. You know, any scene with Frodo. (har har har) :P

Oh man, Kellen, real sorry to hear about your problems. At least, thanks to your friend, it's had an up amongst the downs. Hey! That's what friends are for, right? But I hope things with your job goes better for you in the future. And I also hope that you can see the Extended Cut! Now THAT would raise your spirits to the ceiling! ;)

I'm very glad you're enjoying the story, and hope maybe it too is a light in the midst of your problems. You never know *where* you'll shine! :)

Hi Larelin! I'm glad you're enjoying my story, even though Merry and Pippin have been your faves for the most part. I can't wait for ROTK either! Rumor has it that Rosie'll actually have a LINE! Well, okay, she said "goodnight lads" in the first one, but that hardly qualifies as a LINE. :D

*tries to respond to Rose Cotton's feedback, but gets bulled-over by her hilarity* LOL! That was SOOOO funny, RC! I laughed SO hard! :D Yeah, I guess you liked it, eh? Well, I'd keep going, but this hilarity of yours is HEAVY! ;)

AREN'T they sweet? *smiles at Angel of the Elves* that's something that ANYone with eyes can agree on! ;) They deserve more attention then they get, I think, though. *sigh*

Well, here it is girls. The final post. It's been fun! I'm afraid if you have any comments or questions, I won't be able to respond to them here. If you'd like, though, you can e-mail them to me at:

**Evenstar47@hotmail.com**

****

Heck, e-mail me just 'cause, if you want! :D

Oh, and one last thing. We reeeally need new members on the Rosie/Sam fan listing. You don't have to join, but if you'd like to show your appreciation for these two, it'd be great if you would!

Actually, even if you don't join, it'd be great if you could just take a look. Katie's put a lot of work into it, and there's a pretty HUGE gallery now. Plus, there are several other things that you can do on there besides just joining!

Anyways, I'm rambling, when I only wanted to say one thing: Come on over, if you want. :)

The address again is:

**http://www.those-who-wander.net/samrosie/**

****

Anywayz, here it is! Hope you enjoy it as you've enjoyed the previous five! :)

Namarie! 

~Chloe

Chapter 6

Tributes to Forever

Sam lay, his eyes closed, but his mind fully awake. He was thinking of what Frodo had said awhile back.

__

"If the One goes into the Fire, and we are at hand? I ask you, Sam, are we ever likely to need bread again? I think not…"

Was it true? Which did Frodo really believe? What he had said then, or what he'd said a few moments ago?

__

"Oh Sam. I promise you'll see her again."

He dearly hoped that he believed the reliving latter, but some how, the former was more likely, even to Sam's optimistic mind. But then Rosie's words overrode Frodo's. 

__

"Why of course, though you told me not to make promises I'm not sure of keeping."

"Well, you shall have to keep it, then."

He smiled inwardly. Somehow, he had to come back. Death, as Rosie would have likely put it, is just another dragon. And he wasn't scared of dragons anymore, so why fear death?

But there was one thing about what Frodo said that *did* still ring true. All that mattered was right here. Right now. And at this moment, he had Rosie's love. What else could he possibly want?

****

About a month later…

Sam hurried to the house. By the large round door, at the top of the steps form the wide yard, stood Mrs. Cotton and Rosie, and Nibs in front of them grasping a hay-fork.

"It's me!" shouted Sam as he trotted up. "Sam Gamgee! So don't try prodding me, Nibs. Anyway, I've a mail-shirt on me."

He jumped down from his pony and went up the steps. They stared at him in silence. "Good evening, Mrs. Cotton!" he said "Hullo, Rosie!"

"Hullo, Sam!" Rosie called, beaming "Where've you been? They said you were dead; but I've been expecting you since the Spring. You haven't hurried, have you?"

"Perhaps not." said Sam, turning slightly red. "But I've been busy with much."

"Oh?" asked Rosie. "And what could busy you so far from home?"

"I've been about, picking Bluets, making parsley stew, running in the rain, fighting dragons and I've come to help you with your garden!"

This completely bewildered Mrs. Cotton and Nibs, but Rosie was glowing. "You are very good at keeping promises, aren't you Sam?"

"I do try, Rosie. I'm glad to see you."

"And I you. " Rosie smiled. "Well, be off with you! If you've been looking after Frodo all this while, what d'you want to leave him for, as soon as things look dangerous?"

This was too much for Sam. It needed a week's answer or none. He turned away and mounted his pony. But as he started off, Rosie ran down the steps.

"I think you look fine, Sam." she said. "Go on now! But take care of yourself, and come straight back as soon as you have settled the ruffians!"

"I love you Rosie!" he called as his pony took off, no longer ashamed to shout it, even in front of her whole family.

"I love you too, Sam!" she responded, watching him disappear, a clear smile on her face. 

Sam found Frodo and his friends by the fire talking to old Tom Cotton, while an admiring crowd of Bywater folk stood around and stared.

Sam sat beside Frodo, and waited quietly a moment. When Frodo was no longer talking to Cotton, he turned to him and whispered. "You were right, Mr. Frodo." Frodo looked up, and caught the look of immense joy in Sam's eyes. "I did see her again." Sam finished, smiling at the other.

Frodo leaned over and laid a hand around Sam's shoulders. "I'm truly happy for you Sam. And do her feelings for you remain as ever?"

"No." Sam sighed, looking into the distance wistfully. 

"Oh?" Frodo asked, leaning even farther forward to catch his friend's expression.

Sam smiled and looked over at the other hobbit. "It's even stronger now, Mr. Frodo."

"Good for you, Samwise." Frodo whispered. "Good for you."

****

Two Years Later…

Sam turned to Bywater, and so came back up the Hill, as day was ending once more. So he went on, and there was yellow light, and fire within; the evening meal was ready, and he was expected. Rosie drew him in, and set him in his chair, putting little Elanor upon his lap.

He drew a deep breath. "Well, I'm back," he said.

Rosie sat down in the chair beside him, and looked deep into his eyes. "Are you all right, Sam?"

"Yes." he sighed. "I shall miss him. As dearly as I loved him."

"I know." Rose gave his hand a squeeze. "Are you hungry, Sam?"

"No, not right now, Rosie, thank you."

He sighed again, and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose I sort of took life and time for granted, didn't I? But now, now Mr. Frodo's gone…"

"He's not gone, Sam. You'll see him again. I promise." she smiled. "And I only make promises I can keep."

Sam smiled back, and rested his chin on Elandor's head, burying half of his face in her honey-blonde curls. He sat that way awhile, staring at Rosie through the forest of blond ringlets.

"What is it?" she asked, smiling down at him.

A huge grin spread across his face "I love you Rosie."

She returned the smile, and put a hand on his. "I love you too, Sam. Always."

****

Sixty-two years later…

Elanor sat silently, looking out at the sunset far-off. She glanced over at her bedside drawer and sighed. She was *still* avoiding it. She really did want to read the Red Book her father, Sam Gamgee had given her, but it still hurt to read about him, for she still deeply missed him and her mother, Rose Gamgee.

She shook her head, her curls, almost identical to her late-mother's, swinging and bouncing as she did. It was time to put the past where it belonged. She then nodded resolutely, and sat down on her bed, opening the nearby drawer, and pulling the Red Book from it.

She took a deep breath, and opened to the first page. But instead of finding an introduction or date or anything expected of the first page in a book, she found a small inscription written in a careful, delicate script. 

__

A spray of flowers,

Cup of tea,

A bit of rainy weather

The night we danced,

Her love for me,

Are tributes to forever!

~I'll love you forever, my darling Rosie…I promise.~

And beside the message was a pressed flower. A Gentian.

Elanor swallowed hard, but felt tears slide down her face anyway. She knew enough about her parent's life story to know what the flower meant, but not the poem. It seemed to be something only between Sam and Rose, and it took her breath away to see it here, like a call from her father in the Grey Havens. 

At that moment, a voice came through the open doorway. 

"Elanor, darling? Elfstan and I are having supper, are you coming?"

"Yes, Fastred." Elanor managed to call, without conveying that she was crying.

She looked down at the page again, brushing her tears away so they wouldn't blot the beautiful writing. This was too special, too wonderful to show to just anyone. The precious mystery of her parent's story should be preserved, but only to the ones who would know it for what it really was.

Gently, she tore the page from the beautiful book, and folded it, setting it carefully back in the drawer. Perhaps Frodo and Rose would like to see their father's inscription as well, but not now. Not yet. 

Even as Elanor closed the drawer, she felt she wouldn't have the courage to show it's contents even to her siblings. It was too precious to be restricted to an explanation, or even the beautiful inscription in the Red Book. 

She sighed, and sat before the fading sunset once more. But now, thoughts of her parents flooded her mind. "You had a wonderful life, didn't you father?" she asked the wind that crept easily through her window. "You and mother had what most only dream of; true happiness." and she sighed, and turned towards the sound of her family eating supper.

****

*****

"It's beautiful!" Frodo walked up beside Sam. "I haven't come to look at the sea in…well, of course, I can't be sure how long!" and he threw a hearty arm around the hobbit's shoulder, and said as though he were giving advice to a son, "Sam, my lad, you never realize what a burden time is until it is blissfully gone."

"Indeed it is bliss, but one can never put anything according to plan!" Sam exclaimed, smiling broadly at his friend.

"That's the most beautiful thing of it, Sam. There's nothing to plan! We don't have time, because we don't *need* time as we had in Middle Earth." he sighed. "And it is magnificent."

Sam's smile faltered a bit at these last words, and he looked softly over the smooth water. "Do you ever miss Middle Earth, Mr. Frodo?"

Frodo stared over the water as well, and was silent a moment, as he let his arm slide down Sam's back. "In Middle Earth, I felt pain and sorrow. I found no comfort after the One went into Mount Doom, little at least. You were the only joy I felt. But now, there *is* no pain. There *is* no worry. There is only joy. Everywhere. As far as the eye can see," he shook his head, smiling. "and farther." he sighed, and then looked over at Sam, curiously. "Sam? Do you miss anything about Middle Earth?"

Sam stared over the sea, letting his eyes glaze it's unmoving surface, but another, more beautiful picture was in his mind. A young hobbit-lass, sitting at the top of the Hill, picking flowers. She was laughing blissfully, her high, sincere giggle, and fiddling with the small Buttercups in her curly hair.

__

"Now, we are the handsomest in Hobbiton!"

"Just one thing, Mr. Frodo." Sam whispered, and was momentarily not-so-sure that there were no tears in the Grey Havens. "Just one."

Frodo watched his friend's expression turn from the hope of a distant memory, to the sadness of finding it naught but a memory. And Frodo wished more than ever to touch his friend, for Sam's heart was too innocent, and fragile even after many years, and didn't deserve to be hurt. Frodo couldn't bare the look of sorrow that Sam now wore, as he watched the still waters of the sea. 

He wanted so to make the poor hobbit feel better, and in looking around for a distraction, lighted on a tall man, in a dusty-blue hate. He smiled. 

"Come, Sam." he whispered kindly, and lifted his hand back onto the friend's shoulder. "There is Gandalf. Let us go say hullo."

Sam nodded, and smiled gratefully at Frodo. A smile Frodo could almost have returned himself, just for being able to see it on the hobbit's face again. "Thank you Mr. Frodo." and turning once more to the sea, Sam closed his eyes, breathed in the fresh air, and whispered with a smile fostered by the everlasting love of this one girl, "Goodbye, Rosie."

And the two left the water's edge, and journeyed towards their old friend, leaving distant memories on the bank. But though they were forsaken there, the haziest of visions still followed Sam wherever he went. Even as he approached Gandalf, and waved his hullo, Sam could hear a faint voice in his ear, reminding him of the past. 

"I love you, Sam. How I do."

For who indeed could ever forget Rosie Cotton?

****

The End 


End file.
